Steam and Cold
by missnazimova
Summary: Quite simply Edith and Cora escort Sarah to the station after the death of her brother in the war.


A/N: More Sarah O'Brien angst I'm afraid. Thank you so much to those that reviewed so positively, I was really touched that people were so positive as there are some really amazing O'Brien writers on here! :)

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><p>Edith drives the car.<p>

By the early part of 1917 she's proficient enough that she likes to run errands where she can and O'Brien isn't in the best state and isn't too worried for her safety anyway so she merely nods gratefully when the offer to drive her is made. A lifetime of service being engrained on her bones almost make her refuse just because she should, because it's what she's _supposed_ to say to kind offers made by her employers, but she's known Lady Edith since she was twelve and Sarah's known since then that if Lady Edith offers you one of her sweets then it'll only upset her if you don't take it. And the girl – because she will always be a girl to Sarah, built with spite in her manner but tears in her eyes and all dressed up with curls that won't stay curled – doesn't comment on the tragedy or try to be sympathetic like the cretins downstairs, and thank _Christ_ none of them know what's going on, and it is for that reason, the summit of a hundred reasons, that O'Brien finally decides Edith is her favourite of the girls.

First thing in the morning – she got the news in the second post and didn't look at the letter until just before she was due to undress her ladyship for the night – she can feel the coldness seeping through her boots and wants nothing more than to be back in her little bed and warm. Cora's getting later and later in her rising and so O'Brien can afford to be a bit more lapse and indulge in a lie-in every now and then. Ethel's daft enough to do as she's told and bring her morning cup of tea half an hour later than she used to have it: Gwen would never have broken Mrs Hughes' unshakable rules about the time to get up like that but Ethel's a bit more adventurous and O'Brien finds it perversely thrilling that she'll do as she's told. But those mornings – mornings that begin with a satisfyingly biting comment being tossed out – seem a lifetime ago before the scrap of letter in her Mother's trembling hand came out of her pocket last night.

There's a hand on her shoulder, the same hand that gently pried the letter from her own stiff ones last night, and Cora will of course do nothing _but_ come with her despite her maid's protests. It's far too early of course, there's barely light enough to see, and Sarah's already told her twice that she should stay in the warm and twice she's been told back that Cora is not one of the invalids at Downton. Her ladyship doesn't understand this kind of grief – oh she's no stranger to the general emotion but her Papa was old and her son never was – so she does all she knows how as a hostess and tries to make her charge comfortable in the car. O'Brien lets her get on with things because it's not as though it costs her anything to be coddled but she refused the spare fur Cora tried to force upon her to keep out the cold because how would that look to her grieving family? Boys fighting at the front, her Mother crying every night and her ailing Dad trying to hold them together and Lady Muck turning up in her mistress' fur!

This February isn't nearly as cold as last summer anyway.

She tries to get in the front but Cora gently guides her to the back, as though she's a child that needs leading, and settles besides her, pulling a blanket over both of their laps and it is then, and only then, that O'Brien begins to question what kind of kindness this is. They're both warmer undoubtedly, and she's sure that Cora means well and means to comfort her, but half of the kindness seems to be to keep her from having to sit by Edith in the passenger's seat.

It isn't until they've started down the drive that O'Brien sees that Edith is all elbows when she drives. She always was the most notably angular of the girls - Sybil was born softer and Mary carried it better – and the maid manages the ghost of a smile at the awkward but determined movements. Driving a car Lady Edith looks happier than she has in a long time, since before the Titanic, but no, it was before that really: she hadn't looked this happy since her first season, when she'd ended up being let down by a society that had fallen over itself to love Lady Mary.

"Are you quite sure you wouldn't prefer us to take you all the way home?"

If Sarah's constant refrain had been that Cora would get cold then her ladyship's had been that O'Brien simply shouldn't have to get the train the greater distance home; it occurred to Sarah vaguely to wonder how long they had treated each other like children but she didn't have the energy to think too much about her ladyship at the moment. Goodness knew she dedicated enough of her bloody time to it as it was.

"I'm sure m'lady, I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh O'Brien, you couldn't be," Cora took her hand and squeezed it gently. "It really wouldn't be any trouble, would it Edith?"

Edith turned her head around quickly to smile before returning to the road.

"I wouldn't mind. I've never driven particularly far before but I don't mind trying."

"It's very kind of you both but I'd rather get the train."

They object all the way to the station but O'Brien remained adamant – although at one point she was half-convinced that on her Mother's instruction Edith might just carry on driving – and soon she was on the platform.

"Thank you very much for the lift m'lady. I'll be fine from 'ere-"

"Nonsense O'Brien," without even reaching for assistance Cora climbed out of the car as Edith turned off the engine. "Do you really imagine we're going to leave you here in the cold? At least allow me to see you onto the train."

Sarah smiled softly and let herself be led inside the ticket office and before she could even begin to object Cora had swept up to the desk and rung the bell for assistance. In the early hours the attendant was slow about reaching his post and Sarah knew that if it had just been her she would have received a dirty look and little else but upon seeing the Countess of Grantham standing before him the dirty blonde hair was immediately smoothed out and covered by a hat and his back was straight to the point of it looking painful.

Next to her Edith smirked and caught her eye as Cora began to quiz the poor man about the rates in First Class for this particular journey.

"I know your Mother's only trying to help m'lady, but I can't travel in First."

"Why ever not?"

"My Mother thinks I'm above myself as it is, if she sees me getting out of First Class…"

Knowing her Mother she'd start grilling her about what she was doing in the house to get privileges like that and she wouldn't be shy about accusing her daughter in front of the rest of the family. Even now, faced with a tragedy that she simply couldn't comprehend, Agnes O'Brien was still more likely to lash out at her remaining children than she was to admit her grief. Sarah didn't really begrudge her that; she'd long since learnt that none of it was personal.

"I can ask Mama not to but I doubt she'll let you travel in anything lower than Second. She'd still prefer to see you to the door after all."

Sarah nodded uselessly. There was little she could do as Lady Edith strode towards her Mother and began to negotiate. Occasionally one or other of them would look back at her with sympathy - Sarah wished she was still the sort of person who could hate them for their sad eyes, looking upon the poor woman who could barely afford a ticket back home after her brother got blown up - and she contemplated reaching into her pocket for a cigarette. She might not be able to smoke on the train after all and it was going to be a long journey back to her home.

She had just reached for the packet and managed to slip one out with it still in her pocket when the two women started back towards her.

"O'Brien, I know you'll argue but I got you Second Class."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief: Second wasn't too bad really, although she still probably wouldn't be able to smoke once other people started busying up the train. In Second she was more likely to be sat with Doctor's wives on their way somewhere to do a bit of shopping and businessmen on their way to work. She could cope with that - the soldiers, the _boys_ would be in Third after all and she didn't think she could stand looking at any of them at the moment.

"Thank you m'lady, there was really no need."

Cora smiled softly and rolled her eyes in mock-irritation, reaching out to take her hand once more. In between them, standing at the unconnected part of the trio, Edith looked uncomfortably at her own hands and Sarah took pity on her as she hadn't since Edith was tiny and had come to her with a chunk of her hair missing. Sarah had never asked, and Edith had never told, but Lady Mary had looked remarkably smug that night and swished her own shiny locks around rather more than usual. She'd had the same lost look then, although then it had been tinge with considerably more tears, and as she had done last time she reached for Edith's hand too.

"There was every need. And please don't be cross with me but I bought the whole compartment."

Sarah furrowed her brow and looked to Lady Edith with confusion and more than a little bit of desperation.

"You're not..." She looked between the the redhead and the Countess but could discern nothing from their faces other than mild exasperation on Edith's part and a certain smugness to Cora's. "You're not comin' with me are you?"

"Would you prefer me to?" Cora's hand was squeezing hers once again and she was so terribly earnest that Sarah thought she must have dreamed her up after all. She tried to shake her head but was immediately cut off in her attempt to refuse the offer. "I'd be more than happy to. You've held my hand before O'Brien," she smiled and for a moment Sarah was back to that horrible, awful moment at the garden party when Cora's had taken her hand and looked at her like she was her saviour. Somehow that moment, that moment of utter and complete trust that Sarah knew she would never be able to shake Cora of, had been more terrible than the fall and the crash and the blood on the floor. "So it's only fair."

"No m'lady," she spoke plainly and the surprise at her forthrightness was evident in Cora's face - all night and all the morning she had done little other than mutter. "I'd rather be on my own for a bit I think."

"You'll have us to come back to O'Brien, don't worry," it occurred to Sarah in a moment of guilty neglect that Edith was still holding her hand too and she hadn't even noticed. She saw, quite suddenly and despicably, how easy it must have been for Cora to overlook the poor, quiet thing all her life. "I'll be ready to pick you up whenever you're ready to come back."

"Thank you m'lady," Edith placed a careful hand on her back for a moment and reached up to squeeze her shoulder. She was shorter than the girl now - she was shorter than most people, apart from Daisy - but having the child she had wanted to look after look _down_ at her was rather odd. Her brothers were like this now: when she'd been younger she'd been bigger and had looked after them all with ferocity but they'd all soon been taller than her. They'd still been scared of her but Sarah had slightly resented having to crane her neck upwards.

Edith shuffled off to the sides, back to the car, and whether she knew it or not Sarah had a feeling that Edith had just made this more difficult. She was only going away for a week for god's sake but Cora was acting like she was going to the ends of the earth and if she was feeling uncharitably she'd tell herself it was because her ladyship didn't want to have to look after herself for a week. If O'Brien had to go then she'd better go with her! But no, Sarah knew her lady better than that and knew she was probably the best person she'd ever known. Cora only wanted the best for her and the thought sickened her.

"I'll be back before you know it m'lady," she gently took the wad of tickets from Cora's hand and managed a small, wry smile. "I doubt comin' back'll be as comfortable though."

"I'll be sure to arrange your travel back, you needn't worry about that." Cora sniffed in the morning cold but had the same sorrowful look she had worn since she'd learnt about Sarah's loss. "I don't want you to worry about a thing. If you're family need anything-"

"There's nothin'," she muttered.

"Then you've only to ask and I'll do everything I can."

The whistle of the train startled them both and instinctively Sarah reached immediately down for her little traveling carpet bag, watching the steam begin to seep across the platform with a feeling that at least she was finally going to be able to cry in private. Cora had stayed up with her half the night despite Sarah's insistence that she was right as rain and her ladyship should get to bed and rather than Ethel this morning she'd had Cora knocking on her door unable to sleep too. She was more grateful for the care than she could say but comfort was sometimes oppressive and Sarah had never cared for being coddled.

"I best get on then."

Cora moved forwards with the grace she displayed in everything she did and wrapped her arms around Sarah's thin shoulders. The Countess held her tightly and Sarah brought her hands up to clutch at the fur-covered back, running her fingers through the soothing pelt that she had brushed herself only two days ago.

"Send me a telegram if you need anything O'Brien."

"I will," she wouldn't and they both knew it.

"And give your family my sympathies."

"Of course m'lady." That she would do; she Mother might think she was above herself but even that ire wouldn't diminish having the sympathies of a Countess. She manages to get free of the embrace - the temptation to either stay there drawing comfort from it or drag Cora onto the train with her is nearly overwhelming - and straightens her hat with a blush. She takes Cora's hand this time and squeezes it with a smile. "I'd rather be here with you believe me."

"You'll be back with me before you know it," Cora smiled. "Just liked you said."

She gets onto the train with a last look back in which she knows that Cora's not going to leave before her, and settles herself in one of her many seats. She could sleep in here, it's certainly bigger than the room she's heading to after all, and she looks out of the window to meet her Countess' eye with as reassuring a smile as she can manage.

She manages to keep it on her face until the steam conceals them both. Cora knows she's crying, because she knows Cora's crying.


End file.
